Lady of Spirit, A Read Online Free PDF Page A

mullioned windows commanded a prospect of nearly the entire harbor and the Mount as well.
    Clearly the Seacombes were persons of influence in Penzance. Maggie smoothed her skirts and wished she had done as Claude suggested, and taken a moment to re-pin her hair and change her jacket to the one that matched the skirt.
    But it was too late now.
    She took Lizzie’s hand as they were ushered into the large, bright room that possessed the mullioned windows. And standing in front of the fireplace, in which a fire had been lit though the day was not cold, stood two people.
    “Grandpere, Grandmere, it is so good to see you.” Claude bounded across the thick Aubusson rug to shake hands, and then gave his grandmother a hug. “It is my great joy to present your granddaughters at last—my half-sister Elizabeth and my cousin Margaret.”
    Still holding hands, as they might have done when they were small, Maggie and Lizzie approached the older couple. He looked as though he might have been a sailor once, with ruddy skin and a fringe of beard that encircled his face like a paper frill around a ham. He was expensively dressed in a rich waistcoat and wool trousers, and a ruby pin adorned his cravat.
    Maggie curtsied, tugging surreptitiously on Lizzie’s hand so that she did, too.
    “Nonsense, my dears. We are family.” Mrs. Seacombe—Grandmother—came forward and hugged first Lizzie, then Maggie. She was barely taller than both of them, and so slender that she did not need a corset—though Maggie felt its stiffness in her rigid posture. Her gray hair was arranged in a way that had been fashionable several years before, with a Psyche knot high on the head and curls framing the face. Her gown was fine lavender watered silk, with a cascade of Brussels lace down the breast held in place by a brooch winking with tawny diamonds.
    Lady Davina Dunsmuir possessed a parure and tiara made of very similar diamonds, dug from the ground in the far north of the Canadas. Could these have come from the Firstwater Mine as well?
    Their grandmother stepped back, still holding Lizzie’s hands. “You have Elaine’s eyes. Her father’s eyes.”
    Maggie ventured a glance at her grandfather to see that he did indeed have green eyes, though they were faded now, perhaps from many years of looking out to sea.
    “Welcome, my dear,” Grandmother went on. “I cannot tell you what it meant to us to know that you had survived the crash—or how devastated we have been at what we believed to be your loss. When I think of the years we could have had together …”
    “Now, now, Demelza,” Grandfather said gruffly. “That’s water under the keel. Welcome, my dear. I hope you will make Seacombe House your home.”
    “Thank you, Grandfather. Your welcome means so much to us. But what of Maggie?” Lizzie asked eagerly. “Does she resemble her mother—my aunt Catherine? We know so little of her.”
    At last Grandmother’s gaze made its reluctant way to Maggie. “Perhaps, about the mouth and chin. But her eyes, I am afraid, resemble those of no one in the family. Since we do not know—”
    Who her father was, nor the color of his eyes.
    Her lips closed with the finality dictated by propriety and she looked over Lizzie’s shoulder, releasing her hands at last. “Will you introduce us to your friends?”
    Claude introduced Lady Claire, Mr. Malvern, and Tigg.
    “Trevelyan,” Grandfather said, dragging his gaze from Tigg, who, after shaking hands, was standing at ease with his hands clasped behind his back. Since he had acted as engineer this morning, he was still in his flight uniform and polished boots—and a fine sight it was, Maggie thought with pride. “You are St. Ives’s daughter, from Gwynn Place?”
    “I am,” the Lady said. “The present viscount is my brother, and my lady mother is now married to Sir Richard Jermyn, whose lands march with ours. I have been acting as guardian to Maggie and Lizzie for the past five years.”
    “So we